


Lightning

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Dumbledore's Army, Gen, Mentions of Harry/Ginny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin





	Lightning

Lightning struck somewhere in the Forbidden Forest and Ginny wondered if Harry, wherever he was, was warm and dry and safe.   
  
Ginny was at least dry—it was cold, here by the window, so far from the common room fire, which was now burnt down to embers, leaving the room dark. No one else was awake, and there was no one to miss Ginny, alone in her dorm as she was.   
  
Her roommate Sarah was Muggle-born, gone, of course, and in her selfish worry about Harry, it hadn't been until the first night at school that it had occurred to her to wonder whether she was safe. _Or even alive_ , the voice in her head supplied.   
  
Her other roommate, Demelza hadn't come back from detention yet, and that worry was niggling away in the back of Ginny's mind; she was wondering if she ought to go wake Neville or Seamus and have them go see if she was all right— _go with her_ to see if she was all right.  
  
The next strike illuminated her reflection and Ginny saw her own face against the raindrop-streaked pane. Even in the half-second of light, she could tell she didn't look good—pale, with dark circles under her eyes, hair hanging limply around her face.   
  
Ginny pressed her hand against the cold glass, wishing somehow for the ability to know whether or not Harry was okay. _Or even alive_.  
  
She forced the worry down, even if it was only with the logical knowledge that Voldemort wouldn't be able to stop himself from gloating over Harry's death, especially with Harry's underground supporters such a thorn in his side.  
  
So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she didn't hear the Fat Lady's portrait swing in. Ginny turned sharply, sensing movement, terrified for one brief second that it was Voldemort himself come for her, but it was Demelza.  
  
She was limping a bit, though her limp faded when she noticed Ginny.   
  
"You're up late," she said.   
  
Ginny pushed herself off the window seat and hurried over to her friend. "What happened to you?"  
  
Demelza winced. "I'm all right," she said. "I got Goyle. His Cruciatus is awful, but if you scream convincingly enough, he thinks he's doing a good job." She paused. "I reckon next year… I mean, when this is all over…" She swallowed hard. "There won't _be_ a next year, will there?"  
  
Ginny reached out for her arm. "Oh, Demelza," she said softly, though she had the same worry clenching her stomach. They were going to die here, all of them, or they'd die next year, or the next, whenever Voldemort got tired of keeping them alive.  
  
"I'm really all right, though," said Demelza, stepping out of Ginny's grasp. "No need to wake Neville. I'll just get something in the morning. Let's go to bed."  
  
"Yeah," Ginny echoed, and she slowed her pace to match Demelza's as they made their way to the staircase together. Over her shoulder, she saw another flash of lightning, but she couldn't make out anything outside. The fog had gotten too thick.


End file.
